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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29687772">Sorry to Bother You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rolaplayor101/pseuds/Rolaplayor101'>Rolaplayor101</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Soul Eater</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aged-Up Character(s), AlloAro Crona (Soul Eater), AlloAro Death The Kid, Aro week, Aro week 2021, AroAce Black Star, Aromantic, Aromantic Awareness Week, Aromantic Crona (Soul Eater), Aromantic Death The Kid, Arospec Awareness Week 2021, Arospec awareness week, Awkward Dates, Cassgender, Cassgender Crona (Soul Eater), Comedy, First Dates, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Intersex Crona (Soul Eater), Minor Maka Albarn/Soul Eater Evans, Multiple pronouns for Crona (Soul Eater), No Sex, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Other, Queerplatonic Black Star/Soul Eater Evans, Queerplatonic Crona/Death The Kid, Queerplatonic Maka Albarn/Soul Eater Evans, Queerplatonic Relationships, Touch-Starved, alloaro, aro creatives, arocreatives, nonsam aro</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:53:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,358</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29687772</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rolaplayor101/pseuds/Rolaplayor101</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Death The Kid asks Crona out on a date and, being aromantic, Crona does not know how to deal with it.<br/>For Arospec Awareness Week</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Black Star &amp; Death the Kid, Black Star &amp; Soul Eater Evans, Black Star/Soul Eater Evans, Crona &amp; Death the Kid, Crona &amp; Soul Eater Evans, Crona/Death the Kid, Maka Albarn &amp; Crona, Maka Albarn &amp; Soul Eater Evans</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Arospec Fanworks Week</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sorry to Bother You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Crona finds out some things about Death The Kid besides how funny he can be</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I kinda want to make this into a series, but I dunno. This chapter can be read alone, the next chapter is something of the aftermath or sequel of sorts. I also dont know when Ill write and post it. I just wanted to get the first chapter out for Arospec Awareness Week.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kid’s parties are always so lively and bright. Soul is in the corner playing the piano, Blackstar is eating all the food he can fit into his mouth, as always, and Maka is talking with Tsubaki out on the balcony. The chandeliers are shiny and symmetrical, hanging down over the room and bathing everything in the room a pale orange color. </p><p>The amount of energy it takes to survive one of Kid’s parties was radically over my usual quota for dealing with such things, but I came anyway because even though it did tire me out every time, I liked hanging out with this rambunctious group of people. Even when Patty shoved food down my throat and Maka got me out on the dance floor to inevitably have me step on her shoes, and even when Blackstar and Soul started Karaoke and yelled as loud as they could. It was always fun to hang out with them, and after almost five years of being a part of their group, I’d hoped that I could say nothing they’d do would surprise me anymore. </p><p>I thought it was peculiar that Kid had thrown a random party today. Usually, when he throws parties, it's because of something special happening that needs celebrating, like someone getting out of the hospital or having fought and won a really difficult battle. But I didn’t question it. I figured that the son of Lord Death maybe just wanted to have some cool off time. The party itself was fun, and I had a good time. Still, I’d gotten my fill for today. </p><p>It’s like Kid had an affinity for knowing when I was thinking about leaving, because as I looked over the group of Meisters and Weapons, he came up and stood beside me. He said nothing for a while, his arms crossed and his face intense as he also looked into the crowd of twelve. Kim, Ox, and Kilik were here too, but they were caught up talking to each other with Liz and Patty. I’d thought about maybe saying something to him, like “Nice party!” or “I think I’m going to go back, for now”, but in the end I decided against it, instead gulping all my thoughts down and continuing to look into the crowd. </p><p>Kid and I didn’t talk much. Like, barely at all, in comparison to the other meisters. Maka was easy to talk to. She was patient and kind, but also stern and passionate. Blackstar was passionate alright, but he was also very handsy and liked to jump people. Out of all of them, Kid was the hardest to understand. The other two wore their hearts on their sleeves, but Kid was usually expressionless for the most part if he wasn’t glaring at you. Oftentimes he was one to comment on the asymmetry of my hair, but Liz and Patty told me to pay him no mind. It’s not that we don’t get along.. actually, it doesn’t seem like Kid has anyone he’s even really close to. Not in the way I’m close to Maka or how Soul is close to Blackstar. He even seems to keep his weapons at a distance. But maybe that’s just how Death the Kid is. </p><p>Which is why his ask surprised me so much. His brows furrowed down, his eyes lidded in boredom with a slight frown on his face. It made him hard to approach. But he approached <em>me</em>. And then he stood there for a good few seconds, let me fidget around, then, out of nowhere—</p><p>“Hey, go on a date with me.”</p><p>“Huh..?”</p><p>His request doesn’t register. He doesn’t even say it like a question, it’s an order. It takes me a few seconds just to understand that he’s talking to me, and then a few seconds to realize what he just said. When it finally sinks in, my face gets incredibly hot, and Ragnarok seems to well up inside me. Before I can even reply he’s already walked away. </p><p>So now it’s the day of, and I’m standing outside his mansion in my nicest clothes. A few weeks ago Maka bought me a long black skirt and a slate-colored short-sleeve button-up, and, along with a long sleeve black and pink shirt, I’m wearing them both right now. I grit my teeth. </p><p>I shudder as Ragnarok forms out of my back and lands his fist on my head, leaning over me and forcing me to bend over. “What’s with this kid? And what’s wrong with <em> you </em> for actually deciding to come and hang out with this ugly loser?”</p><p>After all these years, Ragnarok is still as mean as ever. “I told you not to come out today..!”</p><p>"Why? So you can flirt with your little <em> boyfriend</em>?" The word sends a shiver down my spine. </p><p>"No!" I straighten up suddenly and bend over backward to get him to stop leaning over me. He flails for a second, but then he grabs my hair to keep steady and it <em>hurts. </em>"It's because you're annoying and you're gonna ruin my evening out!"</p><p>"You mean your <em> date</em>?" He teases and starts grinding his fist into my head. I scream at him to stop but he doesn't listen and continues to run his mouth, "You don't even <em>like </em>him, you're not even capable of liking anyone, and what are you gonna do, huh? Lead him on? If you're gonna fake-date someone then at least let it be Maka, at least she can cook!"</p><p>"Agh!" I scream and punch him in the face, my head ringing and my vision blurred from all his messing around. I hate when he talks about my friends that way. Especially Maka. What Maka and Soul have isn't <em>fake dating </em>and even though it's clear to me already that Ragnarok can't understand basic human interaction, it still buzzes me off. You'd think he'd mature by now, but he's been the same as when we were kids. </p><p>But, on some level, I know he's right. I should have just declined this date. I'm not interested in Kid at all. Not even a little bit. It wasn't anything about him specifically, but like I said, he's kind of closed off. It's hard to connect to him. He's nice when he wants to be, and he's good at being funny even when he isn't trying, but outside of his obsession with symmetry, I feel like I don't know anything about him. He keeps to himself most of the time. </p><p>He's grown into a fine young meister. All of us have grown up. I'd gotten taller and still hover over all of my classmates, including Kid. He's gotten taller, too, only a few inches shorter than me, and his shoulders have gotten broader and his eyes are sharper. He keeps his hair the same as when we were young, but even Patty has grown her hair out similar to her sister's. Blackstar is the third tallest in the group behind Tsubaki. He's the same height as Liz and he's a lot calmer than he was at thirteen. He's still mighty scary sometimes, and still obsessed with popularity, but his confidence is more in his glare now. Soul is as cool as ever, and he and Maka are the strongest weapon and meister duo at the academy, still. They could go toe to toe with Kid and barely win, but they <em>would </em>win. </p><p>It must irritate Kid a lot, being Death's son and always losing to them. Outwardly he doesn't seem to care much, but after every duel, he always gets this look on his face. A sneer. But again, maybe that's just how Kid is. </p><p>"Did..you..just..<em> hit me?" </em> His voice rises, snapping me out of my thoughts. </p><p>"Go! Away!" I yell, and after a breath, he gives up. I sigh too as he sinks back into my back, and then try to fix my hair without a mirror. I haven't changed it much in the last four years. It's the same as always, cut down to the back of my neck. I think I've matured a lot. I don't get bullied by Ragnarok as often. Days like these are special cases. My voice has become more "sophisticated", in Marie's words. Whatever that means. The most prominent feature of mine is probably my height. I'm at six feet one, now. Other than that I don't look much different from back then. My chin may have gotten sharper, and Blackstar tells me that my eyes look happier than they used to. And I am. I am happy. I have a home and people that love me, and apparently a guy that wants to date me. </p><p>I guess I could do way worse than THE Death the Kid. If I'd wanted a romantic relationship, I'd probably be excited right now. No one has ever asked me out before. I've gotten requests for partnerships before, but because I have Ragnarok I turned them all down. I've gotten letters given to me asking for me to be their meister, but it was always from people I didn't know. Kid was the last person on earth I'd expect to ask me out. I'm sure he has plenty of options. He may have a complicated personality, but he is kind at heart. He knew how to make <em> me </em>feel better, and how to get the group focused when it came time for battle. If I had a type, I'm sure he would fit into it somewhere. </p><p>I struggle to keep my hands still, feeling nervousness begin to overwhelm me. Gosh, why am I so nervous? It's just Kid! I mean, I even got all dressed up for today. </p><p>I start picking at my nails, then the sound of a door opening makes me jump two feet in the air. As Kid steps out of his front door, I can only watch quietly, practically paralyzed. He may have been fancy when he was thirteen, and he might be a harbinger of death..</p><p>But Kid sure did grow up handsome. </p><p>The white stripes around his head now fully circle around, and he wears a striped tie to match them. He has a button-up, too, but it's got black, symmetrical designs on each side and is tucked into some snug, gray jeans that are cuffed at the ankles. The perfect length on each side. </p><p>Something in my stomach sturs, and I wrap an arm around myself and squeeze my lips tightly shut. In my head, I can hear Ragnarok sniveling at me. </p><p>Kid still has an unfazed look on his face as he looks at me, stepping closer and closer. I stand up straight as he stops in front of me. With one hand on my arm, I try to smile. "Good--"</p><p>"--Day. Come with me." And he grabs my hand and pulls me into his house. His hand is bigger than mine and very cold, but maybe that's just what it's like when you're Death the Kid. My face is heating up again.. Gosh, I wish I could stop. It feels so creepy..</p><p>"Um, where are you taking me?" I ask. </p><p>"You'll know in a second." His voice has gotten deeper, too. Everything about him is just..older. You'd think that being immortal would mean he'd age slower.</p><p>We walk down one hall to another, each the same and perfectly in order. The guy is consistent, to say the least. Finally, we reach a door in one of the hallways, and he grabs the knob and twists it open, revealing a room filled with various equipment and machines.</p><p> Hair..equipment..and machines. </p><p>Oh. </p><p>I don't know what I was expecting. But it wasn't this. Pins and needles prickle my face as he leads me inside. There's two wide mirrors on each side of the room and beside them both are a bunch of hairdryers set against each wall. Chairs, symmetrically stacked side by side, face their respective mirrors and on the counter under them are hair accessories, combs, brushes, scissors, and conditioners. </p><p>Kid gets a black tarp and unfolds it. "Sit down, here."</p><p>My feet move on their own, my brain completely fried from embarrassment and now going on autopilot. I sit down in the middle chair, and he wraps the cape cover around me. </p><p>I feel frail, like all the energy I had stored up for today had completely evaporated. I should have just said no. I should have just said no. I should have just said <em>no!  </em></p><p>The utter humiliation renders me helpless, even as the tips of his fingers brush against my nape and make me shiver. If my mind weren’t already destroyed, the simple touch would have done me in. </p><p>I felt like I was gonna be swallowed whole by embarrassment. </p><p>There’s a sound of metal clicking on a hard surface, and then the sound of paper crinkling, and I just manage to get my head to turn to see a large, blue, gridded flap of paper being spread out on the counter. </p><p>
  <em> He has BLUEPRINTS? </em>
</p><p>Everything in me is telling me to get up and run away. Ragnarok is definitely laughing at me, inside. I wish I hadn’t come. Of <em>course </em> he only wanted to fix my hair. Why else would he invite me out? No, actually, what the hell is wrong with this guy! This isn’t appropriate at all, even for him!</p><p>He’s back behind me again, and he places his hand gently on top of my head, and I look down at my hands because I can’t possibly face him in the mirror. The weight of his hand is completely different from Ragnarok’s, and that’s all it takes for the affection and touch-starved me to blush for a completely different reason other than shame. </p><p>For a few minutes I just give in to the sensations and close my eyes, waiting for it to be over. It startles me every time Kid’s cold touch meets my skin, but he’s smooth and quiet as the sound of snipping fills the room, sporadically replaced by him combing the knots out of my hair.</p><p>Every now and then he lets out a little breath, and I can feel the warmth of his chest behind my head as he breathes in. It’s a dizzying sensation, and I curl my toes in my loafers as I ball my hands into fists in my lap, trying to think of any other sensation so that I don’t pass out. How can his torso be so warm when his hands are so cold?</p><p> I’ve had Blackstar jump over me and put his arm around me, but that usually only lasts a few seconds unless he’s putting me in a chokehold. And Maka is one to grab my arm and hold onto it when we’re at events, but it feels different from this. This feels..intimate. </p><p>I don’t like it. </p><p>“What conditioner do you use?” His voice is low, as if he’s just as affected by this as me, but I’m sure it’s just because of his in-depth concentration. Why would he be affected by someone like me just sitting here?</p><p>I frown. “Um..” I call out to him for the first time since we got in this room, feeling all the nerves from before crashing back into me. “I thought this— this was, mm, a date..?”</p><p>“It is.” His voice is void of sarcasm or carefulness, like he can’t even bother to expend that much energy on me. He says it like it’s fact. He’s frank, without pretense. He pulls away, and for a second I wonder if <em> I’m </em>the one in the wrong for asking, but no, I couldn’t be, right? </p><p>And suddenly my chair is twisted to the right so that I’m facing the mirror. And..wow. Wow, Kid is good. It’s astonishing, really, what he can do with such cold hands. My hair still has its natural shark-teeth curls, but they are more aligned with each other now, and the longest strands in the back have been shaped to look like fangs, pointing towards my long neck. The long lock of hair that always hung on the side of my face was nothing but a nub now so as to match my left side. My hair seemed to cup my head more than it did before and really brought more attention to my eyes, now wide with surprise. He somehow made my hair look stylish..</p><p>“Now it begins,” He says. </p><p> One second we’re in his salon and the next we’re outside a creepy-looking pottery place. The place has a raggedy-looking sign with its name up top and the entire building is painted black and dark purple, but once we actually enter it’s actually quite a bright place. Sheeted tables with clay on top and the little mixer things litter the room, and shelves of beautiful multicolored pottery are stacked in cases against the wall. Kid is leading me by the hand, but he is trembling and though I can’t see his expression like this, I’m sure he’s screwing up his face. </p><p>The last thing I expected today was to be taking a pottery class with Kid. Though to that case, I hadn’t really known what to expect of this date. At some point I expected him to say it was all a joke, or if not for me to gently let him down by telling him I was aromantic, but I’d much rather the former happen, to be honest. At least then I didn’t have to disappoint the Grim Reaper. </p><p>We’re making vases. Mine ends up oblong and painted white with pink and black zentangle on it. By the time I’m finished, he is still trying to make sure his first two lines are perfectly symmetrical, even going so far as to get a tape measure, which I doubt they just had handy here. </p><p>Next, we go get ice cream at this stand downtown. Kid’s elated to see that his cone comes out in a perfect swirl. It’s actually kinda cute. I’m handed my cup and spoon from the vendor and then follow Kid out of the line as I dip my spoon in and get a dollop to taste. </p><p>It’s terribly sweet and melts in my mouth, the cold making my tongue all tingly, and I close my eyes and savor it. It’s good. I find myself smiling, and when I open my eyes, Kid’s staring at me with a peculiar face. He’s not frowning, so it's not his usual blank face, but he looks almost..thoughtful, as he stands there. He walks back up to me and opens his mouth. When I don’t do anything, he says “Ah.”</p><p>I move a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth and he closes his lips around it, and I <em> know </em>my face is red as he stares at me with those yellow and gold eyes of his and backs himself away from my spoon, the ice cream on it now gone. My heart feels like it will literally beat right out of my chest.</p><p>He brings his own cone up to me in a gesture of <em>want some? </em>but before I can answer, Ragnarok pops out of my back, chomps down on it, and fades back into me, leaving both me and DTK horrified. </p><p>After getting another spoon so we can share, we go for a walk and stop by the outside of a flower shop. Not purposely, mind you, but when I notice Kid come to a stop right in front of an especially gorgeous bouquet, I stop myself to get a look at it. At first, I thought the furrow in his brow and the slight frown on his face was him wondering whether or not to buy it. But, no, the finger he has on his chin moves to one of the flowers, and then, quick as lightning, he starts rearranging the flowers to be perfectly symmetrical to each other. He gets so into it that I have to start dragging him away as an employee comes outside to yell at him. They both shake their fists in the air at each other as I drag him away by his shoulders, him kicking and screaming at the man, calling his work an <em>abomination! A detriment to human society! You call this flower arrangement? </em></p><p>I pant as I finally let him go, now as far away as we need to be from the shop manager. My head hangs low over my knees as I gain my breath. Kid just stands there, avoiding eye contact by looking up at the sun and its wide smile. I glare at him, and I know he can feel it on the back of his head as he twists his neck to look even further away with his arms crossed over his chest.</p><p>He didn’t really particularly seem like he was enjoying this date at all! Why did he invite me here if he wasn’t gonna be into it? Was it a joke after all?</p><p>I stand up to my full height and turn to him. “Um, Kid?”</p><p>An alarm goes off. It’s slightly jarring, but Kid isn’t bothered by it in the least as he turns it off and checks the watch. “Come on, we’ve got somewhere to be.” He says, and starts walking away. </p><p>I furrow my brows as I gaze at him, wrapping my hand around my elbow and slowly starting to walk after him</p><p>As I run up beside him, he looks over at me and asks, “You were about to say something?”</p><p>I shake my head and keep my eyes on the sidewalk. “Never mind.”</p><p>I can feel his eyes on me for a few seconds longer, but he doesn’t ask further and soon turns away. </p><p>He leads me to an outdoor movie in the park. People are on blankets all over the grass, some picnicking and some by themselves. The movie hasn’t started yet, and beside me I see a stone-faced Kid materialize a thin black blanket out of his sleeve, a puff of darkness streaming out and dissipating as he does. “Let’s find a place to sit.”</p><p>When it finally starts, I can’t focus on the movie at all. The sky has gone dark and the moon is laughing at me. They’re all whispering about me. Kid’s expression is blank as he looks up at the sheet with the movie playing on it, one knee up with his hands clasped around it and the other leg laying flat against the blanket. I have my arms wrapped over both my legs with my chin on my knees, unable to calm down. I mumble in his direction, “I feel like everyone is looking at us.”</p><p>He doesn't move, but his voice is soft when he says, “Relax..”</p><p>I don’t know how to do that… I look down at the blanket, then place my hands to my sides and straighten my legs out. Looking in the direction of the movie, I check to see if I feel a change. </p><p>Nope. Didn’t work. </p><p>I hear Death the Kid release a little sigh, and his hands move behind him to hold him up as he leans back. He’s still watching the movie. If this were a drama, this would be the time that he’d move his hand closer to mine, and then I’d move mine closer to his, and then we’d meet in the middle and hold hands.</p><p>He doesn’t move. </p><p>Thank goodness.</p><p>There’s a light streaming right above our heads from a projector way in the back of the park. Dust particles fly through the air around it, and I watch that for a while. </p><p>“It’s okay,” he says to my right, and when I look at him this time, he looks back and smiles brightly. “You see?”</p><p>And it’s even brighter than the light. </p><p>I’m starting to feel sick..</p><p>When it’s all over, I stand up and dust off my ankle-long skirt. Kid stands up too, and the blanket under our feet slithers into his sleeve and disappears. He fixes his cuff and looks around at the other citizens as they get up to leave, then turns to me, hands on his hips. “You ready?”</p><p>Looking at him makes my stomach turn, so I look at the ground. “Yes.” I nod. </p><p>The grass is soft as we walk. I pull down my sleeves over my wrists again and again as a nervous habit, stretching the pink cloth to its limit before letting go and moving to the other one. The grass turns to concrete and we’re walking out of the park. I still don’t look up. I trust that Kid will lead me home and I won’t have to do anything until we get there and say our goodbyes. The concrete is hard under my loafers and my legs ache from sitting for so long. I just want to go home now. I’m trying my hardest to not just throw up. The very back of my throat feels full, and maybe it was from the ice cream, but I just feel gross. Everything feels gross. </p><p>Kid’s feet come to a stop, but thinking that it was just a momentary delay, I keep walking. When I don’t hear his steps pick up behind me, I stop, turn around, try to look up, but all I can get myself to see of him is his tie. </p><p>“What’s wrong?” He asks, an edge to his voice that isn’t quite annoyed but could get there. </p><p>“Wha— what are you talking about?” Gosh, even my voice sounds pathetic. <em> Sophisticated</em>, as if.  </p><p>He gets straight to the point. “Why won’t you look at me?”</p><p>I swallow, grind my teeth then stop, and finally realize I’ve been pulling on my sleeve all this time. I let go, watch it bunch up again over my arm, then try to meet his eyes again. </p><p>They aren’t angry at all. Actually, they do seem quite troubled, and so is the wrinkle in his brow and the frown on his face. His hands are on his hips. His cold, cold hands. </p><p>Instead of focusing on them, I zero in on the wall to my right. “What was this all <em> for </em>..?”</p><p>Again, that sigh. He takes a few steps closer and I freeze, because his thumb and forefinger are on my chin and turning me to look him in the eyes. He’s not forceful at all, rather, he’s very gentle, despite being tremblingly void of warmth. He has to look up at me to keep eye contact, but then he lets go and takes a step back, sighs again, and crosses his arms.</p><p>Finally, he responds, looking off into the distance and then back at me, saying rather quickly and in one breath, “I’m not romantically attracted to you or anyone else for that matter in the slightest,” And he doesn’t even blink before going on, “but when you want to commerce with someone, you take them on dates.”</p><p>Commerce with? I give him a confused look. “But if you’re not romantically interested in me, then what else is there?” </p><p>He gives me a look like <em> I’m </em>the idiot. Seriously, what is going on in Death the Kid’s <em>head? </em> He invited me on this date, but then tells me he doesn’t actually like me? So it was a prank after all? And what does <em> commerce </em>mean? He wanted to talk to me about something? But we’ve barely spoken a word to each other this whole time! And why would he need to call it a date, if that’s the case? And how am I the dumb one for thinking he had a crush on me? When you go with someone on a date, it’s because you like them! I mean, I don’t like Kid, but I didn’t want to let him down, and I <em> was </em>going to tell him I’m aromantic! It just hadn’t got to that point yet. And, I mean, I <em> do </em>find him sexually attract—</p><p>A bell is ringing off somewhere. It’s slow and far away, but it’s audible in the dead silence of this night. It’s so quiet that I can hear the sound of the moon snoring loud and clear. </p><p>My face burns really bad. I might have to go see Naigus. It shouldn’t be able to get this hot like this. I don’t know how to deal with this!</p><p>I cover my mouth with both hands, the thought running over and over in my mind that <em>he’s like me! </em></p><p>I didn’t think there <em>was </em>anyone like me! Especially not THE Death the Kid! It was so improbable, no, <em> impossible</em>, that all I can think of is that this is a dream! Yes, a dream, I’ve been hallucinating from the Madness. That’s it! This isn’t real!</p><p>“Crona, calm down! I’m sorry, alright?”</p><p>Kid’s voice snaps me out of my hysteria and he’s frowning really hard, like he’s in pain. He talks to the wall, voice low and angry. “I knew this would happen, it’s why I wasn’t going to tell you yet..” the wrinkles between his brows deepen. “I’m such a lowly piece of filth, I deserve to die, tossed into the grave and forgotten I’m such a creep—“ he’s talking really fast and slowly sliding to the ground, leaning his head on the wall and working himself into a tizzy. </p><p>“Kid. Kid!” I exclaim, trying to snap him out of it. He’s going way too far and he’s obviously misunderstood my reaction, but he continues his self-deprecating talk as darkness starts to come out of his shoes and envelop him.</p><p>“I don’t even deserve a grave just throw me into the dumpster with the trash I’d deserve it for being asymmetrical garbage and a pervert I'll leave Liz and Patty to someone better than—“</p><p>“Kid!” I grab him by his shoulder, turn him around, and shake him by the collar. “A starfish, a butterfly, the number eight! Kid! Think about the number eight!” I shake him harder until the black steam goes away. </p><p>His head lolls, eyes white and mouth agape. </p><p>“Me too..!” I say. “I’m alloaro too.” </p><p>His eyes roll back to the front of his head and he lifts his head, suddenly alright. “Really?” He asks, genuinely trying to see if I’m joking or not. </p><p>I nod and move back so he’s no longer leaning on his heels anymore, then let go of his collar. “Really.”</p><p>“Oh.” He’s genuinely surprised. “What a coincidence.”</p><p>I nod again, unsure of what to say. </p><p>He is, too, apparently, because he gazes at me for a long moment. “...So.. all those times you were blushing at me…”</p><p>I nod. </p><p>“So...you find me attractive, too?”</p><p>I nod, the heat rushing back to my face. I look down at my shoes.</p><p>“So um… do you..”</p><p>I clench my jaw. </p><p>“Do- do you…” he stutters. His hand is on the back of his neck, and he’s blushing too, looking at the moon to his right. “Do you..!”</p><p>He can’t get it out. I blush even harder, trying and failing not to smile, but keeping it tight. </p><p>“Do you!” He’s exclaiming now, eyes closed and hands balled into fists at his side. “...wanna do this again..sometime..?” His voice goes down to about a two as he asks that, again meeting my eyes with a small, nervous smile and wide yellow and gold eyes. He’d obviously given up on what he’d really wanted to say, but I was okay with that. This was for the best. </p><p>I give him my brightest smile. “Yes!”</p><p>And that was my date with the Grim Reaper. </p><p>He smiles back. On the way home, walking hand to hand, his smile relaxes, and he asks, “Um..what I was saying earlier...I didn’t mean <em> you </em> were disgusting for being alloaro.”</p><p>“I know,” I say, looking forward. </p><p>“Ok, good…” he looks down. Then back at me. “Or that being alloaro is disgusting at all!”</p><p>“I know, Kid.” I squeeze his hand. </p><p>“..OK..” he breathes, relaxing, “Good.” And he looks forward, too. </p><p>And we both keep looking forward, together. </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>PLeaseeee comment!!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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